Disclaimer: Same as always.
AN: Just the epilogue left after this . . . I hope you've liked the story! Please review!
Memories from Dust
Chapter Six: Marcela
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spike and I were in Spain, on the Costa del Sol; ironic, as we couldn't go out in the sun, but after the massive ball of fire disappeared each night, we swam in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. Few people think of this, but as vampires we don't need to breath, and therefore can stay under water as long as we want. This leads to all sorts of interesting activities . . .
But that's off topic. Spike wanted to kill a third slayer, and that's why we were here. We'd been in Spain for a few weeks, and I had learned to flamenco dance while Spike learned all he could about this slayer. Her name was Marcela, and she was small, quick, and confident.
Spike had finally drawn her out, and she faced him alone in the darkened, empty, city square. There were centers like this all throughout the city, many with fountains or statues adorning the middle. This one, however, was nothing but cobblestones stretching from one building to another, and down the narrow streets.
I watched them, hidden in the shadows so as to not get in the way. This was Spike's fight, not mine: after all, he was the one obsessed with slayers.
They fought for a long time. The occasional exchange of words, the frequent exchange of blows. Spike gained the upper hand for a while, and he almost killed her. Came so close, but she slipped away just in time.
That brought a new energy out of Marcela, and she began to move faster and strike harder, and I began to really fear for my mate. But Spike matched her, he hit her more often, and I could smell the girl's fear. And then, out of nowhere, she staked him.
Just like that.
I had begun thinking Spike was going to win, and then he was dust.
Just like that.
Gone.
Nothing.
Dust.
I screamed.
I never knew I could scream like that, and I've never screamed that way again.
My mate, my sire, the love of my life, the only one I never needed or wanted was gone, and I screamed loud and high and there were lights turning on in windows all around the square and Marcela, the one who was supposed to be the third slayer Spike killed and was instead the second person to kill him, dropped her stake.
The slayer hadn't been expecting another vampire, and she was already exhausted from her fight with Spike while I was filled with a fury unlike anything I had ever felt before: it did not take me long to kill her.
One of the townspeople, peering nervously out their windows, had called the police. The officers watched me warily but I ignored them, walking over to where Marcela's stake was lying on the cobblestones, surrounded by dust.
I gathered up as much of it as I could and put it into my deep skirt pocket. All that was left of my Spike fit into my pocket. All willpower over anything left me, and I found myself on the ground, sobbing. The police officers acted quickly, taking hold of me and dragging me away. I couldn't find the strength to resist, and so I was locked up in a one- person cell in the local jail, to be dealt with later.
"I'm ashamed of you, pet." Drawled a very familiar voice. "Stuck in a human jail? I'm gone less than ten minutes and you get yourself locked up."
"Spike?" I asked, incredulous. He was outside my cell, leaning casually against the bars. "But you're dead."
"So are you."
I couldn't help but smile. "But the slayer . . ."
"Alright, so I've been reduced to a pile of dust. That's no reason for you t' let the humans get the better of you." He said with a grin. "You can do better than this; I expect you out tonight."
"Spike?"
"Love?"
I kissed him. One last time, savoring everything that made him Spike.
"I love you."
"Love you too."
I woke up, still sitting on the cot that was the only piece of furniture in the cell.
A dream.
A good one though, and even dream-Spike was right: there was no point in me sitting around here. Once the sun sets, I resolved, I'm out.
The guard was hours late with dinner, but as the human in the cell next to me said, this was normal. By the time he finally arrived with 'dinner' the sun had set and I was starving, though not for the food the guard was handing out.
I fixed my hair quickly, putting on my best 'pretty girl' look. "Oh, thank you sir!" I said as he pushed my tray through the slot and placed it on the floor. "I'm just so hungry!"
I reached for it eagerly, bending over just enough to give the guard a glimpse down my shirt. The bowl slipped out of my grasp and the porridge/rice mush that was supposed to be dinner went flying across the floor.
"Oh no!" I cried, and let the tears fall down my cheeks. "I'm such an idiot."
"Don't worry about it." The guard told me kindly. Guess who's really the idiot here?
He pulled a bowl off someone else's tray and carefully placed it through the bars.
As you know, vampires have lightning-quick reflexes; I had hold of him before he knew what was happening.
I pulled his arm through the food-slot until I could reach through the bars and grab his throat, cutting off his air supply.
"Give me your keys." I ordered him, the innocent girl act gone.
He struggled and I tightened my around his throat. "Give me your keys!" I growled. The room was silent as the rest of the prisoners watched me in mute fascination.
The guard ripped the keys off his belt and threw them onto the floor of my cell. Quickly and efficiently, just as Spike had taught me, I snapped his neck.
He fell to the ground with a dull thud as I picked the keys up off the floor and let myself out. I sank my teeth into the guard's neck. He was not someone I would have chosen to eat; in fact, he tasted rather bitter. But I was starving, and wasn't going to wait any longer.
If Spike had been there, we would have let the prisoners out one by one and watch them try to escape before we killed them. It would have been a good bit of fun, but I wasn't in the mood for games tonight, so I idly dropped the keys to the cells behind me, not caring weather or not the rest of them got out.
I made my way towards the beach; the last place Spike and I had been before his fight with the slayer.
That's where I am now, pulling Spike's dust out of my pocket. My sire now fits in the palm of my hand. I don't believe all that shit about vampires going to hell. Sure, I've killed humans, but humans kill bears who kill fish that kill other fish that kill reeds: in the end, were just part of one big food chain.
I bring the dust close to my face; strangely enough, it smells like Spike. An onslaught of memories hits me, when I first met him, when I was turned, and all the years we had together rush by me until I'm back on the beach and a breeze lifts the dust of my hands and spills Spike into the Mediterranean Sea.
For the first time in a century, I'm alone.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
AN: Just the epilogue left after this . . . I hope you've liked the story! Please review!
Memories from Dust
Chapter Six: Marcela
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spike and I were in Spain, on the Costa del Sol; ironic, as we couldn't go out in the sun, but after the massive ball of fire disappeared each night, we swam in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. Few people think of this, but as vampires we don't need to breath, and therefore can stay under water as long as we want. This leads to all sorts of interesting activities . . .
But that's off topic. Spike wanted to kill a third slayer, and that's why we were here. We'd been in Spain for a few weeks, and I had learned to flamenco dance while Spike learned all he could about this slayer. Her name was Marcela, and she was small, quick, and confident.
Spike had finally drawn her out, and she faced him alone in the darkened, empty, city square. There were centers like this all throughout the city, many with fountains or statues adorning the middle. This one, however, was nothing but cobblestones stretching from one building to another, and down the narrow streets.
I watched them, hidden in the shadows so as to not get in the way. This was Spike's fight, not mine: after all, he was the one obsessed with slayers.
They fought for a long time. The occasional exchange of words, the frequent exchange of blows. Spike gained the upper hand for a while, and he almost killed her. Came so close, but she slipped away just in time.
That brought a new energy out of Marcela, and she began to move faster and strike harder, and I began to really fear for my mate. But Spike matched her, he hit her more often, and I could smell the girl's fear. And then, out of nowhere, she staked him.
Just like that.
I had begun thinking Spike was going to win, and then he was dust.
Just like that.
Gone.
Nothing.
Dust.
I screamed.
I never knew I could scream like that, and I've never screamed that way again.
My mate, my sire, the love of my life, the only one I never needed or wanted was gone, and I screamed loud and high and there were lights turning on in windows all around the square and Marcela, the one who was supposed to be the third slayer Spike killed and was instead the second person to kill him, dropped her stake.
The slayer hadn't been expecting another vampire, and she was already exhausted from her fight with Spike while I was filled with a fury unlike anything I had ever felt before: it did not take me long to kill her.
One of the townspeople, peering nervously out their windows, had called the police. The officers watched me warily but I ignored them, walking over to where Marcela's stake was lying on the cobblestones, surrounded by dust.
I gathered up as much of it as I could and put it into my deep skirt pocket. All that was left of my Spike fit into my pocket. All willpower over anything left me, and I found myself on the ground, sobbing. The police officers acted quickly, taking hold of me and dragging me away. I couldn't find the strength to resist, and so I was locked up in a one- person cell in the local jail, to be dealt with later.
"I'm ashamed of you, pet." Drawled a very familiar voice. "Stuck in a human jail? I'm gone less than ten minutes and you get yourself locked up."
"Spike?" I asked, incredulous. He was outside my cell, leaning casually against the bars. "But you're dead."
"So are you."
I couldn't help but smile. "But the slayer . . ."
"Alright, so I've been reduced to a pile of dust. That's no reason for you t' let the humans get the better of you." He said with a grin. "You can do better than this; I expect you out tonight."
"Spike?"
"Love?"
I kissed him. One last time, savoring everything that made him Spike.
"I love you."
"Love you too."
I woke up, still sitting on the cot that was the only piece of furniture in the cell.
A dream.
A good one though, and even dream-Spike was right: there was no point in me sitting around here. Once the sun sets, I resolved, I'm out.
The guard was hours late with dinner, but as the human in the cell next to me said, this was normal. By the time he finally arrived with 'dinner' the sun had set and I was starving, though not for the food the guard was handing out.
I fixed my hair quickly, putting on my best 'pretty girl' look. "Oh, thank you sir!" I said as he pushed my tray through the slot and placed it on the floor. "I'm just so hungry!"
I reached for it eagerly, bending over just enough to give the guard a glimpse down my shirt. The bowl slipped out of my grasp and the porridge/rice mush that was supposed to be dinner went flying across the floor.
"Oh no!" I cried, and let the tears fall down my cheeks. "I'm such an idiot."
"Don't worry about it." The guard told me kindly. Guess who's really the idiot here?
He pulled a bowl off someone else's tray and carefully placed it through the bars.
As you know, vampires have lightning-quick reflexes; I had hold of him before he knew what was happening.
I pulled his arm through the food-slot until I could reach through the bars and grab his throat, cutting off his air supply.
"Give me your keys." I ordered him, the innocent girl act gone.
He struggled and I tightened my around his throat. "Give me your keys!" I growled. The room was silent as the rest of the prisoners watched me in mute fascination.
The guard ripped the keys off his belt and threw them onto the floor of my cell. Quickly and efficiently, just as Spike had taught me, I snapped his neck.
He fell to the ground with a dull thud as I picked the keys up off the floor and let myself out. I sank my teeth into the guard's neck. He was not someone I would have chosen to eat; in fact, he tasted rather bitter. But I was starving, and wasn't going to wait any longer.
If Spike had been there, we would have let the prisoners out one by one and watch them try to escape before we killed them. It would have been a good bit of fun, but I wasn't in the mood for games tonight, so I idly dropped the keys to the cells behind me, not caring weather or not the rest of them got out.
I made my way towards the beach; the last place Spike and I had been before his fight with the slayer.
That's where I am now, pulling Spike's dust out of my pocket. My sire now fits in the palm of my hand. I don't believe all that shit about vampires going to hell. Sure, I've killed humans, but humans kill bears who kill fish that kill other fish that kill reeds: in the end, were just part of one big food chain.
I bring the dust close to my face; strangely enough, it smells like Spike. An onslaught of memories hits me, when I first met him, when I was turned, and all the years we had together rush by me until I'm back on the beach and a breeze lifts the dust of my hands and spills Spike into the Mediterranean Sea.
For the first time in a century, I'm alone.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =